I want one so badly…

John gazed longingly at the pack on the counter. It seemed to whisper to him to make the purchase he had been putting off for the last two weeks; calling him to discard all the gum chewing, the toe tapping, and the cranky moods; pleading to him to pay no mind to the promise he made to Sarah and their son. The vixen he desired was singing her Siren’s song and he was desperate to embrace her once again.

The pack sprawled seductively before him. He wanted to undress one of its long white lovelies from the confining cellophane attire, lovingly place it between his lips, setting it ablaze. He would inhale the sultry thick smoke until it penetrated his lungs, filled his skull and curled its way down to the tips of his toes. He longed to…

“Uh sir, did you need anything else from the back of the counter?” The mid 40s clerk with the name badge “Sue” gave him a smile but she appeared concerned for him.

He noticed the line forming behind him and wondered how long he had been having his moment.

“Sorry, sorry… Can I get a” This was it…He seriously considered calling it quits. He could feel normal again. All he had to do was say… “pack of that gum there?” He was pointing to the nicotine gum which he always suspected was about as effective as injecting saline into a heroin addict.

A knowing smile spread to the clerk’s face as she handed him the homely looking box. You could always tell the people that knew what it was to quit something like smoking. They all got that look on their face when they found out you were quitting. This was after all John’s 3rd time quitting.

“Hang in there. If you make it past two weeks, you should be just fine.” A man with a gruff voice behind him had keyed in on the fact that he was having some difficulty with the transition to a smoke free lifestyle. “I quit 5 years ago cold turkey. It was the hardest thing I ever done. I still think about lighting up once in a while, but to go through what you are right now…No thanks." he made the “Safe” sign like an umpire just for emphasis.

The man was the third person to give him roughly the same pep talk. Still, he humored him with his stock response. “I tried cold turkey before… Never worked for me. I apparently need the crutch.”

John had already opened the box and popped a piece before handing the clerk his credit card. He shot the guy a laugh around the decidedly unsexy wad in his mouth. This laugh normally came easily to him but seemed both forced and exhausting today.

The automatic doors leading to the parking lot parted in their usual startled manner as he approached. The sun was way too bright and the air was hot and stale like sitting in a sauna filled with soggy restaurant garbage.

He fumbled his keys out of his pocket and Fosbury Flopped onto the driver seat of his late model Grand Am. The windows would not go down fast enough to suit him as he keyed the ignition on and rumbled the car to life. The engine sounded as reluctant to budge as he was in the 90 degree day.

He reached into his front pocket absent-mindedly for the pack that used to be there. Fooled again by his old habit. He fumbled the selector arm until it read “R” and backed out of the spot. Shifting into “D” he edged toward the driveway and waited for traffic to clear

I guess I can’t give up now. I would just have to start all over. It isn’t as bad as it was last week. He thought as traffic finally cleared. He pulled across the center median to make his left turn. I am going to live longer and I will feel bett…

Just then, the driver of a semi truck John hadn’t seen coming off of the nearby freeway ramp looked up from the radio dial he had been fiddling with to see a white Grand Am directly in his path and closing fast. The driver knew instinctively it was too late. There was nowhere to go and he also knew he was a good 15,000 lbs overweight. That was simply asking too much of the trailer’s old worn out brakes.

John never did look up. He quit smoking that day though.